Wasted
by behindthemusic
Summary: When Spencer doesn't show up to work, Hotch goes to check up on him - and finds out something about the young genius that he never expected. Spencer/Hotch romance pairing. If you don't like, don't read. Rated T for language and sexual content. Might become M later on. Please review!
1. Alice

"Wasted"

Chapter One

It was very unlike Spencer to not show up to work.

Hotch frowned, his nearly permanent scowl deepening as he scanned across the room from the balcony outside of his office, keeping an eye out for the dirty blonde hair and giddy gait of the young genius. He had called every member of the team together for a briefing nearly 45 minutes prior, and Spencer had sent his call straight to voicemail each and every time. It was early – just before dawn – and Hotch couldn't possibly imagine what was keeping Spencer preoccupied at such a time.

Hotch sighed deeply, and began to walk over to the conference room. He tried to keep the thought of Spencer out of his mind, but he simply couldn't; it was simply going to drive him nuts thinking about what the younger man could possibly be doing. Of course, because of his line of work as an FBI agent, he naturally couldn't help but consider that Spencer could be in trouble, but he tried his best to push that idea out of his head to concentrate on the task at hand.

As he made his way into the conference room, all of the other members of the team were waiting for him, and clearly had the same question as Hotch did regarding the whereabouts of Spencer Reid.

"You didn't find him?" Morgan questioned, his brow furrowing as he leaned back in his seat.

Hotch shook his head as he strode around to the head of the table, taking a position of authority. "No, I didn't. At this point, we'll have to proceed without him. The case we have needs to be addressed immediately, and we can't waste any time." He nodded to JJ, who stood up and took over presenting the case.

"We have a child abduction. Seven year old Lacey Gates, taken from her home in the middle of the night about two hours ago by a male in a black four-door Ford Focus. The park is located in Greenland, which, as we all know, is only about a ten minute drive from us here. So, no plane today guys. This abduction happened in our own backyard."

As JJ continued to present the case, Hotch's mind wandered to the idea of Spencer yet again. Of course, this wasn't uncommon; he mind was almost constantly preoccupied on the young man. Personally, he'd always been close to him as a friend and colleague, despite their differences in age and personality, and had always held a fondness for him. But after years of growing closer and closer with him, well, an extremely unforeseen romantic attraction had blossomed, although Hotch was not completely sure what it could be.

Neither he nor Spencer had ever truly explored the possibility of being with another man; sure, he had experimented during some drunken college nights, but he'd never taken it seriously. That is, until about six months prior, when after a particularly difficult and draining case had left them both exhausted and burned out, and, in a moment of pure desperation, he had found himself turning to comfort in none other than Spencer Reid.

Even now, though, Hotch was still completely unsure as to what exactly he and Spencer were doing. It was complicated, to say the very least, and obviously, no one on the team could possibly find out – and, of course, as they were all profilers who were experts on detecting secrets, it was extremely difficult to keep it unknown. However, for six months, they'd managed to do so, keeping their nights of passion and romance and relief from chasing monsters a secret from every one of their colleagues. Maybe someday, when he and Spencer figured out exactly what it was that they were involved in, they'd tell the team, but that day most certainly was not today.

As JJ finished speaking, Hotch snapped back to reality and composed his thoughts. "Alright guys. I want you all to head over to Greenland P.D., as we already have communications with the police there and they will be waiting. We'll regroup there." As everyone shuffled to leave, Rossi leaned over the Hotch, questionably. "And where are you headed, Aaron?"

"I'll catch up with you there." Hotch responded hastily, and left the room before Rossi could interrogate him any further.

Once Hotch stood back in his office, he took out his phone and called Garcia, who answered with far too much cheer and wit for it being so early in the morning. "Garcia, I need you to run a trace on a phone number for me, just so that I know where it is at this moment. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course I can sir, your wish is my command." Garcia quipped, beginning to type on her keyboard. "Okay, shoot!"

Hotch read the number off to her – knowing it from memory – and Garcia paused for a long moment before responding. "Um, sir, that's Reid's phone. Is everything alright?" Worry had already settled within her tone of voice.

"I'm sure everything is fine. I just don't know where he is, is all. He won't pick up." Hotch concealed his own worry and curiosity, and tried to sound as indifferent as he possibly could.

Garcia paused yet again, before responding with even more anxiety than she had before. "Um, I'm not so sure about that, sir. Reid's phone is currently being traced to the local police station in downtown Stattford… what's going on?"

Hotch frowned deeply, officially beginning to worry for Spencer. Why the hell would he be at a police station at this hour? And why would be keep ignoring all calls? "I'm not sure, but I'm going to find out. Thanks, Garcia." Hotch hung up quickly, grabbed his car keys and his suit jacket, and rushed out of his office, on a mission.

…

Hotch stepped into the small Stattford police station, where, at 4:30 a.m., appeared to be a ghost town. A lone guard sat behind a front desk, looking bored and worn out. He didn't even raise his eyes as Hotch approached, as he seemingly couldn't be bothered.

"Excuse me officer, but my name is Aaron Hotchner, I'm with the FBI." Hotch flashed his badge, to which the officer seemed still unimpressed. "Another one of my agents is here in this station somewhere, and I need to see him now."

The officer sighed, clearly agitated at having been disturbed. "I don't know what the FBI has to do with anything, but your friend is down that hallway, third interrogation window to the right. He's talkin' to some trash girl we found high as a kite on Main Street this evening causing a commotion. I don't know why that interests you people so much, but be my guest."

"Thank you," Hotch said quickly, hurrying off down the hallway. He was slightly relieved – at least Spencer wasn't the one who'd been arrested, but there were still quite a few unanswered questions.

Hotch reached the window, and looked at his lover through the one-way glass. Spencer sat opposite of a young woman who appeared to be about his age, and he looked extremely exhausted. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days, and Hotch couldn't help but be overcome with sympathy and a desire to hold Spencer in his own arms while he rested. Quite on the contrary, the lady sitting on the opposite side of the table appeared to have also been up the entire night, but for vastly different reasons. She was clad in a black nightclub-style dress that hugged her thin body in all the right ways, and her high heeled stilettos added to her look. She had dirty blonde hair that hung in perfect waves down her back, and her face, although it was extremely pretty to look at, was covered in makeup that attempted to hide her expression of a lack of innocence to no avail. She was clearly under the abuse of at least one drug, let alone the fact that she was wasted beyond belief. She was trouble, and Hotch could instantly sense it. Spencer had no business with a girl like her, for sure.

Spencer, unaware of Hotch's presence, sighed, and began to speak to the lady. "It's been a few hours. You've got to be sobering up soon."

The girl snorted and rolled her eyes, mockingly. "Sweetheart, you should know by now that I'm never fully sober."

Spencer frowned, unamused. "Trust me, I'm aware," He mumbled back under his breath. "This has got to stop."

The girl fake pouted back at him. "But what's the fun in that?"

Spencer was still unfazed. "Alice, cut it out."

"Alice." The girl repeated. She scrunched up her nose in disgust. "What a horrible name. Alice. Like the dumbass who thought she chased a rabbit down a hole while she was really just tripping on acid. At least, that's the version of the story _I _choose to believe in. It's much more interesting that way." She leaned back in her chair as best as she could with her restraints. "It doesn't fit me. It's too old fashioned. It makes me sound like a prude, and, well," She shot Spencer a devilish look to which he crossed his arms, averted his eye contact, and blushed. "you and I both know how untrue _that_ statement is." She sat back, a smug look on her face. "I think I'll start going by Ally instead."

"_Alice_," Spencer said intentionally, to which the girl frowned in disdain, but Spencer went on before she could protest. "I'm sick of this. You need to get your life together, now."

The girl – Alice – rolled her eyes. "I have an excellent life, Spencer. I'm sorry that it doesn't live up to your standards, Mr. BAU Genius, but I am just fine. I don't ask for your opinion, so I don't understand why you feel the need to shove it down my fucking throat every time I see you."

Spencer exhaled sharply, clearly getting irritated. "You don't ask for my opinion, but you sure as hell ask for bail money every time you wind up in situations like this!" Hotch couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at the sound of Spencer cursing. It certainly wasn't like him to get so heated so quickly, unless he truly was personally connected to this girl – but Hotch surely had never seen her or heard of her before in his life.

Alice huffed and turned away her head to avoid eye contact, clearly not interested in Spencer's perspective. Spencer sighed and shook his head slowly. When he spoke again, his words were softer, and he seemed genuinely compassionate. "You could amount to so much."

Alice glared daggers at him. "Oh, so unless I'm as successful as you, I'm insignificant?"

"Alice, stop it. That's not what I said!"

Alice looked away yet again, shaking her head in anger. "Little perfect Spencer Reid, always thinking his intellect places him higher than the rest of us." She scoffed. "I'll never amount to anything by your standards."

Spencer seemed genuinely affected by her words, and his tired face fell even more. "I don't think I'm higher than you, by any means. I'm just saying that you could become so much."

Alice looked back at Spencer, her eyes glazed over – although Hotch was unsure if it was from the amount of alcohol she had clearly consumed or from true emotion. "I'm just not you, Spencer, okay? I missed my shot, man. You've tried so many times with me, but this is just who I am. I can't change it."

"You've given up on yourself, but I haven't." Spencer breathed deeply. "This isn't you. This is who you've let yourself become. You're sad and you're lost but you are so much more than the problems you cause when you're drunk. You drink to try and fill in the void you have inside of you, to conceal your feelings of insecurity and unworthiness. You've never been happy with yourself, and you try to drink to forget about how miserable you feel when you're sober – but even that's not enough, and you still just feel so empty."

"Don't you dare profile me." Alice snapped. "It's complete bullshit, anyway. I could have told you all of that about myself and saved you the breath."

"Then you know it's true then, all of it. Yet you ignore it anyway."

Alice pursed her lips. "Okay. Fine. I agree completely. Can you post my bail now so that we can both get out of here?"

Spencer frowned. "There you go, just saying what you think I want to hear so that I'll do what you want."

"Fair enough, you can add _manipulative_ to the list of my best qualities." Alice rolled her eyes yet again.

Spencer narrowed his eyes at her, disappointed and tired. "What if…what if I don't post bail this time?"

Alice laughed at him, and Hotch nearly cringed at how empty and hollow it sounded, as though she had forgotten what it was truly like to be sincere. "You and I both know you wouldn't leave me here."

Spencer hesitated, and Alice went on. "You'll pay, every single time. We're stuck a cycle." She rested her head in her hands with a deep sigh. "I'm stuck in this cycle."

Spencer looked over at her in her pathetic, drunken state, and Hotch couldn't help but feel as though he wanted to run in and give the young man a hug. He just looked so tired and so vulnerable.

Slowly, he got up from the table, and Alice looked up at him, as though she was surprised that he was leaving. Spencer ran a hand through his hair, and then looked over to the door of the room. "Yeah, you're right. I'll post bail. You'll be out of here by dawn." He walked to the door, and paused with his hand on the doorknob. "I'd like to think that this'll be the last time, but statistically speaking alone, I'm sure you'll be in for being drunk and disorderly again before Christmas." Without another word, he slipped out of the room – and ended up face-to-face with Aaron Hotchner.

Spencer's jaw dropped to the floor, and he began to stammer out anything that could possibly be considered a complete sentence, before he finally managed to spit out, "W-what are you doing here?"

Hotch rested his hand on Spencer's arm gently, calming him slightly from his surprise. "I was worried about you, Spencer. I'm sorry if I startled you, but I just needed to make sure you were okay. I was expecting to see you on the other side of the table in there."

Spencer exhaled deeply and looked back into the room where Alice was already slumped over the table in a drunken sleep. "I…I just had something I had to take care of."

Hotch reached up to Spencer's chin, and gently moved it so that he was looking him directly in his eyes, which were so incredibly worn out. Hotch sighed sympathetically, wishing he knew how to help. "Do you want to tell me who she is?" After a pause, he went on. "Maybe I could help if I knew."

Spencer shook his head. "She's so far beyond help, Aaron. I just keep trying to help her and she just won't let me in. She doesn't let anyone in. The only thing she trusts anymore are drugs and alcohol." He sighed. "It's so unbelievably sad, you know? To watch someone waste away? 

Aaron furrowed his brow, his eyes sweeping over the face of the young doctor. Lord, when had he gotten so tired? Why hadn't he noticed this sooner? If only he could erase a lifetime of horrors and exhaustion with soft caresses and gentle kisses.

"Yeah, it's sad, but you have to learn that some people is this world just can't be helped, and you need to learn to just walk away. Who is she, though? Someone you made a personal connection to on a case? An old friend?"

Spencer scoffed softly, and averted his eye contact to the ground, shaking his head softly. "Oh, Aaron," he muttered quietly. "It's not quite that simple." He sighed, and once again looked up into the eyes of his superior and lover. "She's my sister."

To Be Continued

A/N: Hope you liked it! Please review; it motivates me to post quicker! :)


	2. Rest

Wasted

Chapter 2

Spencer sat in the passenger seat of Hotch's car, his head resting in his hand against the window. No matter how tired he was, he couldn't sleep; the night certainly hadn't turned out how he had been expecting it to be.

He stealthily glanced over at Hotch from the corner of his eye and tried to read his emotions. Nothing. Spencer sighed. Despite having known the man for so many years and now being intimately involved with him, he was still impossible to read. He supposed that that was his own stupid fault, for falling for a man who kept his feelings protected from even the people closest to him by a cold exterior.

Keeping his eyes straight ahead, Hotch finally spoke up, never averting his gaze from the road. "I don't mean to be nosy, but were you ever planning on telling me that you have a sister?"

Spencer breathed in deeply. Hotch finally looked over at him, his eyes softening just the slightest amount. This wasn't how he was expecting the night to turn out, either.

"I…Of course I was going to tell you at some point, Aaron. But…I mean, you saw her. She's… She's just…" Spencer broke off, at loss for words to really express how he was feeling.

"Were you…embarrassed of her?" Hotch offered, trying to explain the other man's emotions. Spencer shook his head instantly.

"No, no, I'm not embarrassed of her at all, I swear." He sighed. "It's just – she's my sister, you know? And frankly speaking, she's an absolute mess. I didn't see how telling you about my drug-abusing, alcoholic, stripper sister would bring out any good, for her or for you. I…I was just trying to protect you both, I guess." He sighed. "Not to mention, she just moved out here from Las Vegas last year. Our lives didn't really coexist until recently, anyway. Prior to that, she didn't really want anything to do with me."

"Why?" Hotch inquired.

Spencer let out an empty sound that resembled and spiteful laugh, and Hotch couldn't help but recognize it instantly as the exact same sound that Alice had made in the interrogation room. "She never really thought she fit in with our family. She still doesn't think so."

"That's a pretty vague answer, Reid."

Spencer sighed. "I know, I know. It's…complicated, Aaron, okay? Can you just trust me on this?"

Hotch looked over to the young man, his thin frame pressed up against the car door, exhaustion written all over his face. Although slightly hesitant, Hotch nodded, and laid his hand on Spencer's knee, rubbing it lightly with his thumb. With a deep sigh, Spencer closed his eyes, although he was certain that there was far too much to think about to keep him awake.

Suddenly, Hotch's phone began to ring, and he quickly removed his hand from Spencer's leg in order to grab it. Spencer reopened his eyes and sat up straight, trying his absolute hardest to place himself in a working mindset.

The phone call was quick, and when Hotch hung up, he seemed relieved. "Well, we have some good news. Lacey Gates – the abduction case we were working on today – has already been resolved. They found her on the next street over, and she's going to be fine."

Spencer nodded. "That's nice to know." He managed to say; although, if he were to be honest, he was only half-listening to Hotch anyway. "Back to the office then?"

Hotch looked over at Spencer and immediately shook his head. "No, not for you at least. I'm taking you home so that you can get some rest."

Instantly, Spencer interjected, appearing to be completely awake. "What? Why? That's absolutely ridiculous, Aaron. I'm completely fine, and I'd rather be working than – "

"—Reid, this is an order. You're exhausted, and I'm not going to let you work like this."

Spencer pouted. "You care too much about me. It's becoming detrimental."

Hotch chuckled softly, to which Spencer couldn't help but lift one of the corners of his mouth up into the smallest hint of a smile. "Fine, I care too much about you, guilty as charged." Hotch looked over at Spencer, his expression having softened greatly. "But regardless of that, you're going home to rest. There's no way I'm going to let you work like this."

Spencer sighed, but, being too tired to argue, nodded his head in reluctant agreement.

As they pulled up to Spencer's modest apartment, Hotch parked the car, and hopped out quickly so that he could run around to the other side of the vehicle to open the door for Spencer. The younger man smiled softly to himself; Hotch always was such a gentleman to him.

Hotch helped Spencer out of the car, and walked with him up to his apartment door. Spencer fumbled around for his keys in his pockets, and finally let himself into his home. He leaned against the doorway and turned around to face Hotch yet again, only to find the older man looking down at him intently.

There was some facial expression about him that Spencer simply couldn't read, and nervously he spit out, "What's wrong?"

Hotch smiled softly and shook his head, reaching his hand up to the side of Spencer's face, and Spencer rested against his touch. "Nothing." He kissed the young man gently on his forehead. "You're just so… beautiful."

Spencer blushed softly and contently, and Hotch pulled him close, holding him against his strong chest, his chin resting gently atop of his lover's head. Suddenly, Spencer pulled away, and Hotch missed his presence instantly. "Skip work with me, too."

Hotch smirked, but shook his head. "Don't tease me, Reid. You know that I can't."

Spencer fake pouted and Hotch shook a finger at him. "Oh, don't do that. You can't win me over with your sad eyes this time."

Spencer shrugged and pulled himself close to Hotch once again. "It was worth a shot." He mumbled into the man's chest.

After a few moments, Hotch pulled away from Spencer, and tilted the young man's head up, placing a soft kiss against his lips. One kiss just didn't seem to be enough, and, Spencer, fueled by exhaustion and frustration, deepened the kiss, brushing his tongue swiftly across Hotch's lower lip.

Having not expected such a strong response, Hotch let out a soft moan, and pulled away from Spencer, whose eyes had mischief written all through them. Hotch tapped Spencer quickly on the nose, his eyebrow raised. "No." He placed a gentle kiss on Spencer's forehead again, and the young genius feigned disappointment at Hotch's refusal. "You need to get some rest."

"What I need is you." Spencer replied, softly yet determined.

Hotch brushed a lock of Spencer's hair out of his eyes, and looked down at him longingly. "Tonight, after work, I'll come over, and I'll make up for it." Spencer grinned. "I promise."

Hotch gave Spencer the slightest trace of a smile, and then turned to walk down the hallway.

"Aaron," Spencer called after him. The man turned around yet again. "I love you."

Hotch smiled lightly. "I love you, too. Now get some sleep."

…

The remainder of the day drudged on for Hotch, and when 5p.m. finally rolled around, he was more than happy to rush out of the B.A.U. headquarters. It was a Friday night, and Jack was spending a weekend camping with one of his school friends, so Hotch fully intended on spending the entirety of the next two days and nights in the company of Spencer.

He pulled up to the apartment complex – for the second time that day – and eagerly hopped out of the vehicle. He bounded up the steps to his lover's door, and knocked swiftly. He smiled softly to himself; he fully intended to keep the promise that he'd made to the other man that morning, and surely would relieve them both of their built-up stresses.

The door opened, and the smile on Hotch's face quickly evolved into an expression of surprise and concern. For, standing in the doorway was not Spencer Reid at all, but rather, his disheveled, broken sister, holding a beer in her right hand.

To Be Continued

A/N: Hope y'all like this so far.


	3. Comfort

Wasted

Chapter 3

"Who the hell are you?" Alice peered up at the FBI agent in front of her, unfazed.

"I'm a…friend of your brother." Hotch hesitated slightly. He hadn't even known this woman existed until hours ago, let alone what she knew about Spencer and his relationships.

"My brother doesn't have friends. I'm all he's got." Alice brought the beer up to her lips. "Try again."

Before Hotch could even think of a response, Alice seemed to change her mind – or she simply had forgotten her previous statement in her drunken haze, and she spoke up again.

"Spencer!" She called out behind her. She eyed Hotch up and down, clearly unimpressed by his clean-cut appearance and his position of authority. If anything, she was instantly repelled by him. "You've got a visitor!" Alice hesitantly walked away from the door, all the while keeping a suspicious and watchful eye on the man in front of her. She couldn't have been taller than 5'6", and surely didn't weigh much more than 110 pounds soaking wet, yet one look at the fire in her eyes could have intimidated any man – including Aaron Hotchner.

Spencer emerged from around the corner, his expression already as apologetic as he possibly could make it. Hotch shot him a sympathetic glance in return, trying to communicate silently with the boy. Spencer was dressed in an old FBI academy T-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants that Hotch was certain were his own, as they hung loosely from the boy's thin waist, supported only by the tightly pulled drawstring. God, he could really pull off being disheveled. Had Alice not been standing between them, Hotch probably would have jumped on the boy right then and there.

"Alice, go back into the living room, please? Just…go to bed or something." Spencer ran a hand over his face, and Hotch was entirely sure that the boy hadn't gotten any rest throughout the day, as his exhaustion was still completely evident.

"Not tired." Alice slurred out. She flailed out her hand that held her beer can, spilling its liquid content all over the floor. She looked at the mess she made in complete awe, as her drunken stupor refused to allow her to understand what she had just done.

"Dammit, Alice." Spencer fumed. He snatched the can out of her hand, frustration building up and pouring out of every single one of his pores. "Give me that. Why the hell would you open another one? Where did you even get this!?" He looked at the purse that dangled precariously over her left shoulder, and mentally answered his own question. He grabbed the purse away from her as well, and although she tried to resist, she was no match for her sober brother.

"You're no fun, 'Pencer." Alice frowned. She slumped onto the hardwood floor, pouting.

"Oh, for Pete's sake Alice, get up." Spencer practically whined at the girl. He looked over at Hotch, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and exhaustion. "She's been plastered since this afternoon. She just showed up, completely out of the blue; I don't even want to know if she actually drove here in this state." He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm so sorry."

Hotch laid a hand on Spencer's shoulder, understanding. "I'm not mad, Spencer. I have no reason to be. Just help me get her up."

Spencer nodded, and together the two men forced Alice to her feet, and guided her over to the living room loveseat, where she sprawled out, too drunk to resist. Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair, and sat down on the other end of the sofa. Hotch followed suit, and pulled the younger man in closer to him, and found some comfort as he felt Spencer's entire body relax at his touch.

"It's no use trying to reason with her when she's like this. It'll have to wait until she sobers up." Spencer said, apologetically.

"Reid," Hotch said after a short while. "Tell me what you're dealing with here. I don't want you to have to handle this alone."

Spencer sighed. "It never used to be like this." He looked over at Alice, who had already drifted off into a deep sleep. "Look at her. She's always been the most beautiful girl I've ever known."

Hotch had to agree: the girl was beautiful – granted, it was much easier to appreciate her beauty when she was passed out on the sofa rather than awake and rowdy, but she was beautiful, nonetheless.

Spencer sighed. "My parents never planned on having a second child; my mother never wanted another. She told me once, 'why mess with perfection'? Alice was completely unexpected, and, given that she's four years younger than me, she only ever really knew my mom as she was getting sick, and she doesn't remember much of my father at all. With our dad gone and our mom ill and me being…well, _me_, she just never felt like she could do anything right. She always felt like everything was her fault," Spencer shook his head softly. "Even when she had nothing to do with the situation."

"I guess it doesn't take very much to bridge the gap between a lifetime of insecurity and alcoholism, after all." Hotch deduced. Spencer looked over at Alice with pity.

"I really just want her to try. Sometimes, she'll have good weeks – months, even – where she'll get a job, maybe even find a nice guy to keep her on track… but even the smallest thing can derail her again. She has such a hard exterior but in reality, she's so fragile and so susceptible." Spencer shook his head sadly. "Growing up without a father is just _harder_ on girls, generally speaking, you know? We see it all the time. Every single time that she finds an honest, good guy, she'll either drive them crazy until they leave or she'll run away herself. She's terrified of commitment, and she ends up with scum." Spencer threw up his hands as though he were pushing the entire idea out of his head, and he leaned closer into Hotch again. "Enough of this. I'll deal with it more when she wakes up, but that most likely won't be until morning. You, on the other hand," He ran a finger up his lover's chest. "Have a promise to keep."

With a small smile forming on his face, Hotch swung his arm under Spencer's knees and swiftly lifted him up off of the couch and into his arms. Before Spencer could let out a surprised gasp, Hotch pressed his lips to his own and silenced him. Spencer relaxed into the kiss, channeling all of his exhaustion and stress into the passion that he felt for the man who held him in his arms. He wasn't quite sure exactly how Hotch managed to do it, but somehow, he managed to carry the younger man the entire way into his bedroom and place him down onto the bed before he broke the kiss.

"Aaron, you never cease to amaze me." Spencer mumbled out loud.

Hotch gave him a questioning, humored look, but said nothing, as he was prevented from doing so by Spencer pulling him down onto the bed with him. The young man fumbled with the buttons on Hotch's shirt, as though he simply couldn't undo them fast enough. Hotch followed suit, and soon the two men both found themselves shirtless in bed together, the air between them thick with anticipation and want. Hotch began to trail kisses down Spencer's body, starting at his jawline and working his way down his neck, sucking gently against his pulse but being careful not to leave behind a mark. He continued down to the boy's chest, where he teased his nipples with his tongue, sucking them, lightly at first, but then nipping at them until Spencer couldn't help but release a loud moan in delight. Hotch smiled against his lover's skin; it was just a sound that he never got tired of hearing.

As Hotch made his way down Spencer's stomach, the young man wound his hands into his hair, pulling slightly in approval, and letting out soft coos between his quickened breathing. As Hotch finally reached the waistband of Spencer's (his) sweatpants, Spencer spoke the man's name, quietly and sincerely. Hotch looked up at him, and found himself captured by the adoring look within the younger man's mesmerizing brown eyes.

"How do you always manage to make me feel so much better?" Spencer asked innocently, almost sheepishly.

Hotch smiled. He had fallen in love with Spencer's shy, polite demeanor, after all. "I love you, Spencer. It's as simple as that."

"I love you too, Aaron. So much." Spencer let out a content sigh as Hotch returned to his promise, and lightly tugged the pants off of his lover's thin frame, eager to make the boy feel as much better as he possibly could in the best way that he knew how.

To Be Continued

A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews! I'm glad so many of you are approving of this so far.


	4. The Morning After

Wasted

Chapter 4

Hotch slowly awoke the next morning, gradually finding the strength and motivation to open his eyes and take in the day. A feeling of utter contentment flooded across him as he took in his surroundings, and a light smile crept across his face. He was laying on his back in Spencer's bed, with the younger man practically burrowed into his side, his arms wrapped around Hotch securely, and his head using his chest as his pillow. Hotch watched his lover for a moment, observing the gentle rise and fall of his chest, his soft, partially-opened lips, and disheveled, yet still absolutely entrancing, brown locks sprawled out all around his head. Hotch breathed in deeply, his feeling of contentment growing stronger by the second. He'd never known a beauty quite as perfect as Spencer Reid, and, by some miracle, that beauty loved him in return.

Hotch slipped out of the bed, quietly and stealthily, somehow managing not to disturb the sleep of his lover, and he padded silently out of the bedroom and into the main living room of the house, shutting the door soundlessly behind himself. As he turned into the kitchen, though, he was greeted by a sight that he had not been expecting, and his lovely Saturday morning took a turn towards the unpredicted.

Alice Reid stood in the kitchen, her back to Hotch, as she made herself a cup of hot tea. She wore an old, long-sleeved t-shirt that he recognized as his own. He made a mental note to stop himself from leaving so many of his clothes at Spencer's house. The shirt hung loosely on her, draping down so low that she didn't bother to wear any pants with it, and emphasizing just how thin her frame truly was. She had her dirty blonde waves of hair pulled up freely into a messy bun, and Hotch was sure that if her hair were hanging down, it would exactly resemble the mess of hair that Spencer dealt with every morning as well.

Alice turned around, having heard the man enter, and Hotch practically didn't recognize her. He could instantly identify her as being sober, as her entire expression seemed to be altered, and, in his defense, this was the first time that he had seen the girl in this state. She was clean-faced and bright-eyed, and almost looked like an entirely different woman. If anything, she looked five years younger, and more like a child than an adult. For the first time, he truly saw the resemblance between the young woman standing in front of him and the young man asleep in the bedroom behind him.

Alice seemed surprised by his presence, her soft brown eyes – God, they really were identical to Spencer's – widening slightly, as though she truly had never seen him before. It took Hotch a moment to gather that she probably didn't remember him from the night before.

"Hi," He said, slightly awkwardly, realizing how uncomfortable this moment could be for the both of them – her, dressed in nothing other than his own tshirt, and him, shirtless, in a pair of striped pajama pants. (Thank God he had at least bothered to put _them_ on, and hadn't ventured out to the kitchen completely nude.) "I'm, uh, Aaron."

"OH." Alice sputtered out, her eyes widening even more, and her hand flying to her mouth in sudden realization. "Oh, my God, you're Aaron Hotcher." Her hand lowered to her chest. "_The _Aaron Hotcher."

Hotch chuckled awkwardly. "Uh, yeah, I suppose I am."

Alice nodded slowly, her eyes still wide as could be, as though she was still processing everything that was unfolding before her. Not to mention, Hotch was sure that whatever hangover she was dealing with couldn't be pretty. "I'm Alice, I'm Spencer's sister." She managed to say.

"We actually met last night." Hotch replied, trying to jog her memory. Before he could go on, Alice closed her eyes and cut him off.

"Oh, God." She let out an exasperated sigh. "That's right. I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot." She opened her eyes and gave Hotch a small, half-convincing smile. "I'm sorry that was our first introduction. I _never_ get that wasted. I hardly even drink at all, you really just caught me at a bad time."

Hotch gave her a small smile, but didn't question her statement. It was evident that she was not only lying to him, but to herself, and he was sure that it was a lie that she'd told time and time again until even she believed it to be true within her own mind.

"Don't worry about it." Hotch said, taking a seat at the table. Alice grabbed her tea and followed suit, sitting down across from him.

"Well, it's nice to _officially_ meet you, Aaron." She smiled, and it seemed genuine. "Spencer has told me quite a bit about you over the years. All good things, of course."

"That's reassuring to hear." Hotch replied. He couldn't say the same about the girl across from him; prior to 24 hours before, he hadn't even known of her existence. Wishing to avoid an uncomfortable silence, he searched for something to talk about. After a moment, he went on. "Spencer told me that you moved out here not too long ago. How are you liking it so far?"

Alice gave a slight shrug. "Eh. It has its pros and cons. It was just time to get away from Vegas, I guess." She took a sip of her tea, and Hotch took note of the thoughtful look on her face. "Sometimes it's just nice to start over in a new place."

Hotch nodded in agreement. Alice looked away from him and out the window, and he took the opportunity to further analyze her. From a completely physical perspective, he couldn't get past how beautiful she was; of course, he was slightly biased, as she greatly resembled Spencer, but even still, the girl was simply gorgeous. Hotch was by no means a completely gay man – if anything, Spencer was simply an exception to his usual preference – and he could certainly appreciate a beautiful woman when he saw one, and, at the moment, he was seated across from one who just happened to be wearing his clothing. On a deeper level, he took note of her thin frame, and, now that the fire of her drunken persona had melted away, he saw her as frail – almost weak, even – and he was sure that her weight was not the result of purely genetic factors. Sure, Spencer was a thin man, but Alice was more than just that. Hotch saw her as almost sickly, but he wasn't sure if her skinny frame was from some form of eating disorder or some type of hardcore drug use – or a combination of the two.

As Alice lifted her cup up to drink again, her shirt sleeve slipped down, and Hotch caught a glimpse of something alongside the inside of her arm. Hotch looked up to make sure that Alice wasn't aware that he was observing her, and, thankfully, her gaze was still fixed on the view outside the window. He discreetly peered at her arm again, and almost winced aloud at the sight that he was hoping not to see. Alongside the inside of her arm were a mixture of both deliberate cuts and injection sites from needles, some much older than others, but apparent nonetheless. As Hotch's eyes trailed down Alice's arm, he took note of a sickly yellowish-green bruise around her wrist from what looked to be the result of being grabbed or pulled too harshly. In her arm alone, he detected years of self-loathing and desperation, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by pity. As he looked away from her arm and back up to her face, his stomach plunged as his eyes made contact with hers, and he knew that he'd been caught observing her.

Rather than become upset or embarrassed, Alice lifted one corner of her mouth into what Hotch was almost sure was an attempt at a smile, as he was positive that she'd been profiled a million times before by her brother alone. She reached into her purse that sat on the table, and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. She stuck the white cylinder between her teeth, and, as an afterthought, glanced back up at Hotch and asked if he minded. He shook his head silently, and she went to light up.

"Six minutes." A voice that came from Spencer was heard from behind Hotch's head, and Alice froze. Hotch felt relief wash over him, hoping that the younger man would relieve some of the uncomfortable tension that he felt within the atmosphere of the room.

Alice rolled her eyes but put her cigarette away, disappointed. "I know, I know, six minutes less that I get to spend with you. Do you have to be so morbid this early in the morning?"

Spencer shrugged, walking into the kitchen and sliding into the chair next to his love. "It's the truth."

"I _could_ get hit by a bus this afternoon." Alice threw the pack of cigarettes back into her purse. "Then it really wouldn't matter how many cigarettes I had in my lifetime, now would it?"

Spencer scoffed at her. "Don't be such an existentialist."

Alice let out a sarcastic laugh, then looked over at Hotch, humorously. "Oh, totally Spencer, that's definitely the point I was trying to make." She winked at Hotch, to which he couldn't help but chuckle.

Spencer glared at Hotch. "Don't encourage her, Aaron!" He practically whined. Alice giggled softly over the brim of her tea cup.

She stood up from the table and stretched, then walked over to the sink to clean her empty cup. Spencer yawned, and Hotch placed his hand on the younger man's upper thigh beneath the table.

"Have you eaten, Alice?" Spencer spoke up, and Hotch detected that his question was much more than just a question, but rather, a reminder, or perhaps, a demand.

Alice didn't look up or respond, but rather, focused intently on washing her teacup, her lips pursed into a thin line.

Spencer sighed deeply, and stood up from the table, walking towards his sister. "I have bread so you can make toast. I also have some fruit. I know you hate bananas, but I have some apples in the fridge as well. There's oatmeal in the cabinet over there, and—"

Alice spun to face Spencer, her face pleading, and she cut him off. "Spencer, please. Don't do this right now." She sighed herself, and turned back around to the sink to dry off her cup. "I'm not hungry, anyway."

Spencer stood still, observing her for a moment, as though he weren't sure whether he should press the issue or drop it. Ultimately, he decided on the latter, as he nodded slightly and turned back to the table where Hotch still sat. He stood behind the man for a moment, his arms draped around his shoulders, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek before sitting back down at the table. Hotch smiled contently.

"So, Alice, you met Aaron then?" Spencer spoke up again.

Alice, still standing, gave a small smile to Hotch. "Yeah, I did. You've got yourself a keeper, kiddo. Don't do anything to fuck it up." Spencer frowned at her lightheartedly, and Alice shot a wink at Hotch. He smiled back at her yet again. Spencer was right; he wasn't hard to like the girl when she was sober.

"Well," Alice stretched her arms above her head, the bottom of the shirt she was wearing lifting up higher above her knees, revealing yet another, fresher, painfully definite bruise on her upper thigh. Hotch furrowed his brow slightly, but didn't want to jump to any conclusions quite yet. "I'm going to grab a shower and then I'll be out of your hair for the day, Spencer." Almost sheepishly, she added, "Thanks for….you know." She made a gesture with her hand around the room that symbolized her brother allowing her to crash at his house, and he nodded back at her in understanding.

Before she left the room, Spencer spoke up. "What are your plans for the day?"

Alice froze, and almost hesitated, as though she wasn't sure whether she wanted to tell him the truth or not. "I, um, I'm gunna drop by Ben's later on, I think."

Spencer didn't say anything, and, although he was looking straight ahead rather than at his sister, she detected his look of obvious disapproval, and she quickly tried to fix her statement. "Well, um, maybe not. I don't know. I'll see how the day goes." Spencer still didn't respond. Alice looked down at the ground, and Hotch felt as though she was disappointed in herself, more than anything.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Aaron." She managed to squeak out, before eagerly exiting the kitchen and heading towards the bathroom. Spencer let out a sigh, and shook his head as he got up from the table to make himself breakfast.

"You hungry?" He called over to Hotch, only half-heartedly listening to his reply.

Instead of responding, Hotch asked a question of his own. "Who's Ben?"

Spencer drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly before replying. "He's trouble." He finally said, worry and thoughtfulness simultaneously etched across his face. "He's trouble, and she knows it, and one of these days, if she stays with him, he will literally kill her."

To Be Continued

A/N: Hope y'all like this still! Sorry it took a while to post again. Finals week:(


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